Mated (Olde Town Pack Book 2) Read online

  Alpha’s got to Alpha, Brady said to himself, admiring the confidence his brother exuded, even if he was wrong. Aiden wore his power well, and all in attendance knew it.

  “Send word out to all our packs,” Aiden said. “The winter moon is coming.”

  THREE

  Weeks passed in a blur as the whole pack went into a frenzy with preparations for the event. The nature preserve was transformed into a winter wonderland. Lights decorated every tree surrounding the compound, and each cabin had its very own Christmas tree. Holiday wreaths were hung in the windows, garlands and lights lined every wall in the main lobby, and each shelf, counter, and desk had pot of poinsettias. Stephen had even wrapped gifts to go under all of the Christmas trees he’d placed around the buildings.

  No surface had been spared the holiday vomit; Brady even found the mantle in his bedroom fireplace outlined in faux garland and white lights. It was almost too much for him to handle, but when the day arrived, and the pack assembled for the first hunt, Brady finally felt a spark of Christmas cheer.

  Hundreds of wolves from across the New England areas had all come together: alphas, betas, and a few elusive omega wolves. Their compound on the nature preserve had never hosted so many at once. Cabins meant for one or two occupants had been assigned to packs, cramming as many as eight into one small building. The main hall and all the office spaces had been filled as well. Stephen had done well to accommodate so many, and had even set up large party tents outside to act as additional cafeteria and meeting spaces.

  A great big bonfire had been lit, with the promise that the fire, representing the peace in their territory, would not die out until the celebration was over.

  Brady had his own challenges too in arranging security. Shifts of wolves were assigned to patrol the areas. He himself volunteered to participate in those rounds rather than join in on the hunts. With the worry of the Saints potentially looming in the shadows, he didn’t want to take any chance of his brother’s festivities going south.

  Never had a pack so large attempted to run together, and within a few short miles they’d tracked and taken down enough elk to feed the entire assembly. Brady watched with anticipation as the hunting wolves dragged their kill to designated spots where they could be picked up and transported back to the compound.

  The hunt had been a great success. Many a wolf pranced around, muzzles bloody with their kills, bragging through body language to one another. Some looked as if they’d torn into their beast raw after they took them down.

  Brady’s duty lay in keeping watch over the others rather than gorging himself on fresh meat, but there was no denying the desire to join in on such a lively hunt.

  Things were working out well, given the amount of wolves they’d amassed: not a sign of the Saints or a brawl between rival packs. Perhaps his brother’s idea of camaraderie during a festive holiday season was not so far-fetched.

  He patrolled the outer edge of their territory, keeping close watch for anything out of sorts. Howls rose up on the wind as a smaller hunting pack caught scent of their prey and rounded on them.

  Brady smiled to himself, enjoying the scene as if watching a sport being played. Of course he was rooting for the home team, but part of him appreciated the effort of their prey. The struggle to live gave speed to the creature, but not enough, and soon the pack overtook the poor beast. Death came quickly.

  Blood caught Brady’s attention. The coppery tang of it overpowered the crispness of the winter air. But it was not the elk they’d just taken down. Nor was it rabbit or even fox. The scent of wolf blood, as strong as if it were flowing from his own veins, rose up to smack him in the nose.

  And just when he’d thought things were going well.

  Injuries rarely happened on a hunt; spilled blood meant a fight. And in broad daylight, when the potential to be spotted by humans was at its greatest, locating the injured before they shifted took precedence.

  So much for peace during the holidays. Time to go to work. Brady blew out a hot breath that turned to mist instantly as it hit the cold air.

  He listened, hoping to hear a rustle of branches or the whimper of the injured, but there was nothing.

  Frustration made him growl inside over the fact he’d spoken of peace too soon and invoked the wrath of Murphy’s Law. Wolves always found a reason to fight.

  The scent trail led him down into a thick patch of forest. At least a mile from their compound and buried under snow mixed with fallen leaves, he found a she-wolf, unconscious and bleeding to death. Her fur, white as the snow, was stained black from all the blood.

  He shifted and knelt to inspect the wolf’s wounds. Multiple bite marks covered her body. A deep cut across her belly looked almost too clean to be from claw marks, and her front paw jutted out at an unusual angle. No doubt there were more wounds hidden behind the sticky, matted fur. This was no fight over a kill; this looked like murder, poorly masked as a battle.

  Who would do such a thing? Wolves might be treated as equals among the pack, but the thought of someone harming this girl and leaving her out to die in the open woods struck a chord deep within him.

  The poor thing didn’t even have the energy to shift back to her human form. Most wounds could be healed during a shift, so the fact she hadn’t told Brady she was near death, and if he didn’t get her back to the compound immediately, that would be her fate.

  That he couldn’t allow. Not on his watch.

  It was only a mile; he could make it. But he’d be near frozen by the time he arrived, having to do it naked.

  Brady looked around to see if anyone was nearby. He thought to howl and alert the others, but wondered if that might attract the girl’s attackers as well. He’d spent so much time with her he hadn’t given any thought to who else might still be lingering.

  A cursory sniff of the air gave no indication of any others nearby, but even with his superior nose, there were too many other scents assaulting his senses to be accurate.

  Time was of the essence. Questions would have to be answered later. He could run a full sweep of the forest once he got the girl to the compound.

  Brady scooped her up. She was a rag doll in his arms as he carried her back. Howls in the air signaled his approach. A few other wolves, his personal guard, spotted him as he approached. Shifting to human, they came to aid him as he moved closer to the steps of the compound.

  “Help,” he called out, bursting through the doors as he headed toward the infirmary.

  “What happened?” Fallon was first to meet him inside. Without missing a beat, she grabbed a blanket from a stack and ran up, throwing one over his naked body. Horrorstruck, she spotted the wolf in his arms.

  Before she could ask the question, Brady blurted out, “Sniffed her out, buried in the woods. Whoever did this did not want her found.” A growl of pure anger accompanied his words. Whoever had done this would pay.

  “Set her over here.” Fallon retrieved another blanket from the stack. “Do we know who she is? What pack she came from?”

  Her questions were valid, and if he had the answers he would have given them; but all Brady could muster at that moment was a grunt as he laid the injured wolf on the table, inspecting the wounds on her body. Her eyes were open, but she neither blinked nor moved to look around. Her legs were broken, and she had bite marks in her side and various scrapes and abrasions on her back. This was the work of one of their own. Whoever it was had shifted human when they were done and attempted to finish the job with that final slice across the belly. Not deep enough to gut her, thank goodness, but it was certainly an ugly cut. The fact that it hadn’t finished her off said that it had been done in haste. Brady sent his mind back, trying to recall if he had heard any signs of a struggle. He’d been so happy to watch the packs take down that last elk that he hadn’t been doing his job. He should have heard something. But his memory was blank up to the point where her blood had caught his attention.

  The other explanation would be if she had been attacked elsewher
e and dropped in the woods to die. That again pointed to one of his own kind. They were too deep into the woods for cars to have access.

  He had to get to the bottom of this.

  “What the hell did this?” Fallon’s question hit the mark.

  What indeed? It was one thing to fight with another wolf; that happened all the time. Hell, Brady was often more beast than man – but even so, to do this to a female? Unspeakable. To leave her alone and dying in the cold forest... Whoever had done this was truly a monster.

  Problem was, with so many new faces in attendance, it would be hard to pinpoint who’d done the deed.

  Brady swore silently that he would track down the bastard. He’d exact retribution. He smelled her fur, noting the variety of scents clinging to it. Blood overpowered all.

  Another wolf came up behind him. “Her body’s in shock. Not surprising, seeing all of those wounds.”

  He turned angrily at first, but recognizing Emma, the pack physician, his wolf calmed down.

  Emma administered a shot of some kind to the injured wolf. “She’ll need a transfusion to kickstart her healing. She’s lost too much blood.”

  Brady looked down into the poor girl’s eyes. He couldn’t shake the feeling that if he’d had his head in the game, he might have prevented her injuries. “Take what you need from me.” He patted her head gently and then looked up to Emma. “She was found on my watch.”

  Fallon looked sideways in disbelief. “That’s very gallant of you,” she said, before offering her own blood if need be as well.

  Gallantry had nothing to do with it. He’d been on patrol; he should have been paying closer attention to what was happening in his woods. It was the least he could do. When she woke, she could point out her attacker.

  “Just do it,” Brady grumbled.

  FOUR

  Brady sat by the girl’s side the entire evening, waiting for a sign she was healing. He wanted to be first in line when she woke, to question her and learn information about her attacker. Long hours passed quietly, and finally, as the sun began to rise, their efforts were rewarded with a slight twitch of muscle and a whimper.

  Sitting on the edge of sleep, Brady was fading in and out of consciousness when a spasm of muscle caused him to jump out of his seat.

  It was a small sign, but enough to confirm she was on the mend.

  He watched carefully as her fur began to recede and fade into creamy skin. Her paws lengthened. Bones popped and cracked, reforming into hands and feet. Slowly her body reshaped, and when it was done, she lay panting on the table.

  “Welcome back.” Brady smiled down, trying to soften the blow for her. Waking up in a cold, sterile infirmary room had to be jarring. Seeing the confusion in her baby-blue eyes as she tried to focus on her surroundings confirmed that.

  Half glazed over, she attempted to look around the room before her eyes settled on Brady with fear.

  Weakness kept her where she lay, but that fear in her eyes threatened to give her strength enough to move. She whimpered, but when she opened her mouth to speak, no words came out. Dry and raspy, her voice had all but stuck where it was in her throat.

  “Easy now.” He picked up a blanket and laid it over her gently. “Just relax. You’re in a safe place,” Brady tried to reassure her. He reached a hand out to her but thought better of himself and withdrew. This woman had just been beaten and abused. Touching her would probably send her into shock or something worse. He slowly stood from his seat.

  She whimpered and fidgeted on the thin bed.

  “I’m not your enemy here. I found you in the woods and brought you here to heal.” Brady tried to sound soothing, but he saw no easing of the fear in her eyes. “I promise. You’re in a safe place.”

  Sometime over the course of the night, Fallon had left him alone with her. He wished she had stayed. Fallon would have had a softer tone, a gentler approach. Even Emma, it seemed, had retired after the long evening had taken its toll.

  Brady let out a frustrated breath, knowing how it might look if he approached with even the slightest show of anger or annoyance.

  “I’m sorry for whatever happened to you last night. I don’t expect you to believe me, of course.” He took a step away from where she was lying, holding his hands up in the air where she could see. “I want to help, but I need you to trust me and relax, okay? I’m not here to hurt you. See? I’m giving you space, so you can look at me.”

  None of it came out as he’d hoped. Despite the softness he used, he was a man. A big man. And here was a woman who’d clearly been abused. No doubt anything he said would be suspect. The only reason she had not run was the fact she had no strength left.

  “I know you’re scared,” he said. “I’d leave to go get my friend...a girl... if I wasn’t worried about you being alone.”

  Those pale blue eyes of hers widened with panic.

  “But I’m not going to do that. I won’t leave you alone. But I do need you to trust me and try to tell me what happened.”

  She opened her mouth and a sound came out, but it wasn’t words.

  “You’re still healing. Might take a little more time. You could probably use some water, too.” Brady sighed. Time was against them. The moon revelry would end after the final evening’s activities. Whoever was the culprit would have to be found quickly. Voice or no voice, he’d have to figure it out. “Would you trust me enough to at least get you some water?”

  She stared up at him, terror showing clearly in her eyes, but gave a slight nod.

  “Okay. Water. Coming right up.” He snatched a pitcher from a cabinet along the wall and filled it from a small sink in the corner. “I’ll even drink a sip first and prove it’s not poison.”

  Probably a bad choice of words to use on a woman who was obviously afraid of him, but he’d never been the diplomat. When he turned around with the pitcher and cup filled with water, he noticed she’d relaxed enough that she wasn’t about to climb the walls as he approached her.

  Brady took a sip from the glass before offering it to her. “See? Totally fine.”

  She was too weak to reach up and grip the glass herself, so he held it to her lips and let her take as long as she needed to sip.

  “Let’s play yes and no. Can you do that?” Brady asked, after she’d taken her fill of water. He set the glass and the pitcher on the rolling cart next to her bed.

  She looked thoughtful for a moment, but after letting out a sigh, nodded her head.

  “Were you out there alone?” Brady asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Did you come with your pack?”

  She shook her head.

  “No pack?” he asked again, to confirm.

  And again she shook her head.

  Odd behavior. Why would she be out here all on her own? He puzzled over that for a few moments before continuing. “Were you attending our revelry?”

  She shook her head again.

  Even more puzzling. All the wolves in the territory had been invited. Even if she were from one of the outer regions, she’d have to have known what was happening here. “Are you from the east coast?” he asked.

  Maybe all she could do was shake her head, because no was the only answer he was getting. And nothing was making any sense to him. He took a calming breath, reminding himself of her fear and the need to maintain neutrality. Frustration looked just as bad as anger and hostility to those who were traumatized. His reputation for being the biggest, baddest wolf out there came not only from his ability to fight but from his stature. Being a big, tall guy wouldn’t work in his favor here. He couldn’t afford to have this girl hurting herself by trying to escape if she feared he would harm her.

  “Are you from any of the North American territories?” he asked, expecting the same answer again.

  But finally she nodded.

  At least there was one positive answer. But what was a wolf from another territory doing alone in his? And if that were the case, was it one of his own wolves who’d attacked her?
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  “How did you get here?” He knew the moment he asked he’d get no answer. And the narrow-eyed glare she gave him said just as much.

  “Were you on vacation or something?” He tried to word it so she could respond.

  She nodded and mouthed a word that looked like Florida.

  “You’re from the Reds territory, then?” he asked, with even more concern. That was well beyond his pack’s control.

  She nodded. At least they were getting somewhere. Not that he was any closer to figuring out who might have dared to attack her.

  “And you came up here alone on vacation?”

  She half nodded this time. And her face scrunched with disgust.

  Wasn’t the first time someone had come to their territory to see the leaves change. New England had the best and most sought after nature preserves. Every color of the rainbow could be found, and fall was the season that brought them all. But this was winter. Cold. Desolate. And piled high with snow. Wrong season entirely. That might account for her unpleasantness. Then again, being beaten and left in the cold would certainly do that as well.

  “Okay, so not exactly the trip up north you planned, am I right?” he asked.

  This time her nod was emphatic.

  By the looks of her, she had to be in her early twenties. Maybe fresh out of college. He’d been so concerned with her state he’d failed for the first time in his life to have admired a beautiful woman in his vicinity.

  And she certainly was that: curvy in all the right places, with a heart-shaped face and pale blonde, almost silver hair. Under better circumstances, he’d be working his game on her as part of the plan to sleep his way across New England. But fantasies would have to take a back seat to duty, as there were too many questions left unanswered, and he still needed to gather more information on her assailants.

  “Did you know who attacked you?” he asked, wondering who the other party was that had either followed her or noticed her out there in the woods.

  She shook her head, but again it seemed as if the answer were not completely black and white. The look in her pale eyes held pure fear, as if she expected to see them again, whoever ‘they’ were.